Lori Petty

Quote from Lori Petty:

[on the effect The Poker House rape scene had on its viewers] 

"I had a girl come up to me, and she's like "I'm a rape survivor." I said, "No you're not. Stop that." She's like, "What?" She's 17 and came up to me after the movie. She said, "I was raped at 14." I said, "That stupid ass man did a fucked up thing. It has nothing to do with you. You are not tarnished, you are not changed, you are fine. He's fucked up. You're fine." Her eyes opened.

100 Years

As I was talking with my husband and sisters-in-law on Sunday I recalled more wisdom from my mother:

Think forward 100 years. Now, is this immediate issue, heartache or headache going to matter?

Cheyne Stokes

Cheyne Stokes

• by Ironmountain01, Feb 22, 2014, 8:57:18 PM
• Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Biography & Memoir / Stories & Vignettes

Cheyne Stokes


That was how it started at least. I was sitting in the chair next to his bed and all of a sudden (sudden? how could he have just... slipped?) he was in cheyne stokes.

I dropped the head of his bed down, checked his pulse (Tony! Where was Tony? This was supposed to be Telemetry!) and began...

One and two and three and ...

(Where is everyone? I shouldn't be here!)

Four and five and six and...

(Where is the cart?)

Seven and eight and -

Tony came falling through the door, took one look, called Code and went for the ambu-bag - which wasn't there.

Nine and ten and eleven and -

And Tony just began to breathe for the man lying there - no equipment, no protection, just mouth on mouth - basic, no bells & whistles, just life.

I felt the old man's ribs crack, saw him bounce on the hard mattress with each thrust of my palms, saw the sweat bead on Tony's forehead but none of that mattered - nothing mattered except keeping the blood flowing through the old man's heart and brain.

The team finally arrived (with the cart) and the doctor asked for the old man's history. He looked at each of his nurses expectantly and then settled on me, sweating in my light blue scrubs. (I really shouldn't be here.)

"Can you contribute anything or are you just going to stand there doing compressions?"

"This man is a Psychiatrist from Corpus Christi (two and three and), up for his 21st wedding anniversary(six and seven). He has a partial bowel obstruction (nine and) which is his chief complaint(eleven and twelve and). He's been on chemotherapy (fifteen) for the last 14 years as well as (two and three and) radiation therapy for throat cancer, lung cancer, (seven and) skin cancer, prostate cancer, bladder cancer stomach cancer and colon cancer(ten and eleven and). He has a clipped seventh cervical nerve. His admission was yesterday (one and)." Everyone stared at me as I kept doing compressions while I rattled out the old man's impressive but unfortunate history. WHY was I still there?

Finally someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I needed relief and I jumped! It was my chance to step back from the old man lying on that bed. I nodded, counted off, and began to quietly slip from the room.

I was almost to the doctor when he looked at me and said "Well, this man's fucked, just put on a good show for the family." It was the hardest thing to look him in the eye, then past him as I left the room.

"That was his daughter" the nurse said as I finally left the room.

Wisdom

My mom used to be a never-ending fountain of advice, but it was when I grew older that I discovered how wise her words were.

If I (when I) came to her with a problem - boys, classes, dreams, you name it she would get a cup of coffee (always the coffee), sit me down and ask the same question: "Honey, have you done everything that you can possibly do for now?"

If my answer was "yes" then she would tell me to let it go until there was something more that I could do, then do it because to worry about something that could not be changed or acted upon was a useless drain of both mental and emotional energy that could best be put to use elsewhere, like refilling her coffee. Then she'd give me a hug.

If my answer was "no" however, then she would ask me what I could be doing at that particular moment to remedy, influence, or otherwise proactively do about my current worry and why I was still sitting on my proverbial ass worrying about it instead of doing something about it until no more could be done. Then she'd ask for more coffee, and give me a hug.

Along those same lines if I was worried about something and the outcome was not in my favor, or something quite bad had just happened - to me, my family, a friend - she'd give me a huge hug and say wryly (we all believe in humor - even dark humor), "Honey, look on the bright side. In 100 years, is this really going to have made so much of a difference?"

Caged Bird

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom. 

Maya Angelou

Sixteen

Sometimes life throws us curve-balls that we just can't avoid no matter which door we pick: "A" or "B."

I used to make my mom both laugh & pull out her hair when she would tell me the old wisdom about when one door closes another door opens... I would ask her what happens if we didn't like what was behind the new door. Could we just close it and wait for the next door to come along, sort of like trains at a station? I mean, we closed the door, right? Another should open...

I usually got an eye roll, a hug, and a mumble about children who should grow up to be lawyers because of their ability to split hairs...

But there are doors that no matter how much you don't want to go through them you have to anyway and the doors that change on you as you step through them. How do you keep them from taking you down with them (because they try with all their might. They're built that way, you know.) 

You close that door and remember that another will come along. Nothing is permanent - you take the bad with the good and the good with the bad - and understand that change will always come, and come again.

I can't count how many of those doors I've tumbled through so far, but the most recalcitrant one - darn thing just didn't want to close on me - was when I was about sixteen and trying to take care of a friend of mine who was both type 1 diabetic and addicted to cocaine without my mom finding out. My friend had run away from home... 

You know how kids don't want to worry parents, try to keep up their grades, and try to save the world all at the same time? That last part didn't go so well. At all. Which resulted in failure at the first part. The only part that came out unscathed were the grades - thank goodness that it was High-School.

Talking about running from safety... Thinking back I should have asked my mom for help instead of trying to handle everything myself, but I didn't. It is, however, part of what influenced future decisions as well as possibly what may have set me on the main track that the rest of my life seemed to follow.

Sixteen (Paul Durham)

"If just once before you died, behind these seeing dog eyes I felt something, somehow...but it doesn't really matter now. 

I woke up late again - can't make them understand that I'm different than before...

but it doesn't really matter anymore - to the great earth, the great sun, the great big reasons why you did what you've done.

Jude says she gets cold with you not there... I got no idea of where you've been, or who I'm supposed to call...

but it doesn't really matter at all - to the great earth, the great sun, the great big reasons why you did what you've done.

And the snow burns me.

And the cold covers me.

And I know, I know you don't want me...

or the great earth, the great sun, the great big reasons why it's the only thing that's keeping you young.

The great earth, the great big sun...

No, you'll never walk as far as you can run..."

Realization

Broken Wings

Broken Wings

• by Ironmountain01, Dec 31, 2013, 2:17:19 AM
• Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Where were you going, all dressed in black - thigh-high stockings, heels and an oh-so-short skirt?

Where did you come from, all dressed in black - thigh-high stockings torn and running, one shoe and your skirt all skewed?

You stood so quietly there in the dark - I almost didn't see you if it hadn't been for the shadow of your dark broken wings wrapped protectively around you like a cocoon... holding you up for you surely could hardly stand on your own.

Why did you come here, broken as you were? Was it for the glass of water? The blanket around your shoulders as I sat you on the couch? The call to 911 when you stopped responding to me?

Sweetie, you're in a world of hurt and trouble right now - not just from your magical appearance, but from what you did before you came here. Pills and alcohol? Some don't mix, some mix all too well. Ask me about that some day.

But the child! You're someone's baby girl, but you have a baby of your own! You can't be driving around like that... and into oncoming traffic.

Angel, we all have our demons - we just have to learn to face them. Yes, some are worse than others, but I learned something along the slow, painful road of facing my own: you're never alone. There's always a hand in some form or fashion to grab on to, push you, prod you... you just may not recognize or acknowledge at the time and thus, the road gets that much longer.

Ask me - I know.

Whoever you are, my wounded angel with your broken wings, there were a bunch of hands here that night reaching out to you - I hope that you took one of them.

Nothing in this world is so bad that we can't get through it

Together.

Joining You

We can be so hypercritical of ourselves - it's easy to get discouraged, depressed, all the pitfalls that we warn our friends & family against. My family & I are no different, but I do it in spades. Our family "curse" is either depression or anxiety - I got the first one. How do you fight it? Remember that you aren't the only one and that everyone has issues.

When I was 24 the darkness took over and I couldn't find any of my usual light, but my mom & sister were there to be that light for me. Once I got my proverbial crap back together I was listening to the radio and heard a song - the lyrics floored me. I keep a copy on the wall in my studio and another in my office just as a reminder to keep the head out of the anal sphincter. The young woman who authored the lyrics kindly responded to my note thanking her for inadvertently providing a hand when I needed one.

 "Joining You"Alanis Morissette

dear dar(lin') your mom (my friend) left a message on my machine she was frantic saying you were talking crazy that you wanted to do away with yourself I guess she thought I'd be a perfect resort because we've had  this inexplicable connection since our youth and yes they're in shock  they are panicked you and your chronic them and their drama you this embarrassment us in the middle of this delusion

if we were our bodies

if we were our futures

if we were our defenses

 I'd be joining you

if we were our culture

if we were our leaders

if we were our denials 

I'd be joining you

I remember vividly a day years ago we were camping you knew more than you thought you should know you said "I don't want ever to be brainwashed" and you were mind-boggling you were intense you were uncomfortable in your own skin you were thirsty but mostly you were beautiful

if we were our name-tags

if we were our rejections

if we were our outcomes 

I'd be joining you

if we were our indignities

if we were our successes

if we were our emotions 

I'd be joining you

you and I we're like 4 year olds we want to know why and how come about everything we want to reveal ourselves at will and speak our minds and never talk small and be intuitive and question mightily and find god my tortured beacon we need to find like-minded companions

if we were their condemnations

if we were their projections

if we were our paranoias 

I'd be joining you

if we were our incomes

if we were our obsession

if we were our afflictions 

I'd be joining you

we need reflection we need a really good memory feel free to call me a little more often